


Meaning Rhymes with You

by FireEye



Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21970405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: A dinner late, and a late night talk.
Relationships: Red/Subject | The Boxer
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28
Collections: Yuletide Madness 2019





	Meaning Rhymes with You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [runicmagitek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/gifts).



“Damn.”

Words sprawled across the page, a march of broken stanzas and lazy verses that didn’t quite sing. Tracing her thumb against her cheek, Red regarded them intently, but no amount of staring, swearing, or tapping her pen was getting it done.

It simply wasn’t coming together at all.

The door to her dressing room slid open, drawing her attention to the mirror. Her eyes narrowed at the movement in her mirror, then closed as she scrubbed her face with her hand.

“Hey.”

He was smiling broadly. At her. Or maybe at the world, and she just happened to be part of it. And despite herself, Red smiled, too, if a little more self-consciously.

“Hi.”

Her gaze dropped to the thermal cup he offered her, matched to the one in his other hand. Her hand landed flat on the desk, blurring lines she’d written.

“ _Damn_.”

He cocked his head, eyebrows drawing together as he looked to the paper and back again. The smile faded, tinged with a light concern, but didn’t vanish.

“Dinner.” She took the cup anyway; it was still warm. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“I didn’t,” he raised his arm, showing off the bag of takeout that dangled from his elbow. “When you didn’t show, I figured it’d be one of two things, so...”

He found himself a seat on the floor; mindful of her chair, he sprawled his legs out in front of him. Setting the food aside, he swapped his drink from one hand to the other, and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Long night?” he asked.

Red hummed in agreement. She dabbed at the ink with her fingertips, then tried to put the leaves of paper into some kind of order.

He sighed.

“I’d ask if I could help, but... I think songwriting’s your thing, not mine.”

“You help,” she told him.

“I do?”

“You do.”

He grinned, glancing off. Then pointed to her around his cup. “You’re not just saying that, right?”

Red gave an exaggerated huff and shook her head in exasperation, prompting him to chuckle. But she was still smiling.

Then it twisted. She pulled the cover off the cup, and blew on the drink within. Her breath mingled with the steam, making it dance.

“You ever feel like you don’t belong here?”

“Only all of the time,” he answered, off the cuff. Then blinked, staring up at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like it’s all....” she tried to explain. The words evaporated on her tongue. “Like there’s something...”

Red sighed, shaking her head. “It was there, and now I lost it.”

“Nah,” he disagreed. _Politely_. “You’ll never lose it.”

He sat up a little straighter, then slouching forward a bit closer to her.

“That song you were working on just now... what’s wrong with it?”

“I can’t find the right words. The ones I have don’t scan.”

“What about the melody?”

“I haven’t come up with one yet.”

“Why not start there?”

Red hesitated to answer. She felt the texture of the cup under her fingertips as she turned it in her hands. “No one ever understands those songs.”

He wasn’t smiling.

Maybe because she wasn’t either.

“Who cares?”

The question hung between them.

“Hey, you know what I think?” he asked, then answered, “I think we do belong. More than they do. That’s what they’re scared of, you know. You make them feel real, and they don’t know how to be real.”

His eyes flicked to the door. As though maybe he’d said too much. As though maybe she didn’t want him there.

Red pushed her chair aside; she set her cup on the desk, and joined him on the floor. He peered at her under his eyelashes as she sidled up alongside him.

“Worked up an appetite yet?”

The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Only about four hours ago.”

He reached for the bag, then paused. Licking his lips, he regarded her quietly for a moment.

“Hey Red...?”

“Hmm?”

“Your songs... they’re _you_. Don’t water that down. Not for me, not for anybody.”

She studied the gravity of it, etched in the lines of his expression. He was right, and it had been staring her in the face all along.

“I won’t,” she promised.

**Author's Note:**

> this game. my heart. ow.


End file.
